


Jurda, Gold, and Invisible Ships

by zemenipearls (kaiipaii)



Series: Zemeni Extended Universe [4]
Category: Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Decolonization, Espionage, Gen, Kuwei as Nhaban, Minor canon divergence, Ravka, Spies & Secret Agents, novyi zem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 19:48:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18763018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaiipaii/pseuds/zemenipearls
Summary: "He wasn't expected to do much more than say "thank you" when handed an elegant pair of revolvers from Novyi Zem..." pg 324"We need the Zemeni at sea..." pg 431Atiena Kaboyonga is the daughter of an Ambassador and a member of the Council of Elders in Novyi Zem. A powerful zowa in her own right and ammassing a resistance against colonialism, she has used her oratory gift to unite zowa and different regions of the country, creating her own network of spies. Novyi Zem has been the victim of terrorist activity and when the Ravkan Throne announced they would be searching for Nikolai's betrothed, she leaps at the opportunity to discover more about the insidious politics East of the True Sea. Masquerading as a prospective bride with the Zemeni delegation, she makes the journey for information.Armed with intel from Jesper about a Shu grisha named Kuwei, and a sharp eye, she dives into the world of Ravkan politics.





	Jurda, Gold, and Invisible Ships

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place concurrent with Isaak's POV in King of Scars.  
> Takes place after chapter fourteen and during chapter fifteen, of my other fic **Not Everyone Can Aim**  
>   
> 
> **Character Guide**
> 
> Kaboyonga family:  
> Atiena Kaboyonga, _zingiyo_  
>  Sefu Kaboyonga  
> Elder Kaboyonga  
> Ambassador Kaboyonga (Sr)
> 
>  **Zemeni delegation:**  
>  Atiena  
> Ambassador Kaboyonga (Sr.)  
> Fatima - Zowa guard, _'moylilo_  
>  Lwazi - Zowa guard, _umphulukisi_  
>  Nandi - Zowa guard, _lethavu_  
>  Rebekah - Attendant 
> 
> Umhlaba Obiwe - Zemeni words for Southern Colonies lit; Stolen Lands
> 
>  **Regions of Novyi Zem:**  
>  North (based on Arabic North Africa)  
> West (based on the Gold Coast, West Africa)  
> Southeast (based on Tanzania, Kenya, Mozambique area)  
> Southern Colonies / Ravkan territory (based on South Africa region)
> 
>   **Zemeni Classification of Zowa abilities and their shorthand:**
> 
>  Ngaphakathi (Internal Zowa)  
> \- umzingili intliziyo / zingiyo (heartrender)  
> \- umphulukisi (healer)  
> \- ingqondo idimoni / ingmoni (heartrender specializing in the head / illusion)
> 
> Ukuthonya (External Zowa)  
> \- nabaluki (fabrikator - metals and unliving things)  
> \- imbali umkhandi / bahandi (fabrikator - flowers, wood, living things)  
> \- umoya yomlilo / 'moylilo (squallers)  
> \- inhliziyo yomlilo / inlilo (inferni)  
> \- ukuletha imvula / lethavu (tidemakers)

Atiena was never comfortable in her parent's sprawling villa. Her small teacher's home in the suburbs of the Capitol was much better, even though she shared it with her brother Sefu and his piles of books, maps, and research. He was fastidious about his belongings, while she lived in organized chaos.

Now, she was being waited on by attendants, so she could be presented to the King of Ravka. They were packing enough trunks to clothe a poor starving Ravkan village. _This is absurd,_ she thought. _I shouldn't be parading myself like a prize goat for an imperialist._ Maybe she was being unfair, but it was hardly a forward country. Her deceased fiancée had railed about the old King. She was hardly endeared to the new one.

To fight the cold weather, her mother was putting her hair in a beautiful braided style, with real gold clips and cowrie shells as decorations. It screamed “rob me, I'm a dumb princess!” more than “esteemed revolutionary, powerful Zowa, and daughter of politicians”. Though Atiena could hardly be mad, not when her mother lovingly massaged coconut oil and shea butter onto each curl.

Elder Kaboyonga was of average height for a Zemeni woman and had long gray locs that went down to her shoulder blades. She had a shrewd and quiet disposition that was similar to Sefu. She looked towards the larger picture, with bottomless brown eyes. 

Ambassador Kaboyonga was her father - currently in Kerch but headed towards Ravka to meet her there. Tall and lanky, like many East Zemeni men, he kept his own locs only a few inches long, and an affable personality. Atiena took more after him - she thrived under the attention of people and her cause. She could read them well. 

Her new and dear friend Jesper Fahey had been an invaluable assistant, as well as his boyfriend Wylan. But this final step, getting close to the King, the prospective brides, and court gossip - that fell onto her shoulders. 

Atiena glanced down at her talisman. Her grandmother and other ancestors had blessed her with strength, and one of the most dangerous gifts of all for a Zowa. _Umzingili intliziyo._ Heart hunters. She wondered about Ravkan Grisha. Even the word Grisha felt ugly on her tongue. Jesper told her they were called Heartrenders, and they would be the ones dressed in red. He also told her about the ones he met - a woman named Zoya (“very beautiful” he said) and Genya (“very scarred” he said). She was also supposed to look out for a golden-eyed Shu named Kuwei, or possibly Nhaban.

“Are you ready for the journey?” Her mother asked. 

“Yes. It is not my first time to Ravka, you know.” She turned her wrists over, looking at the beadwork from the leopard bones. 

“Try to hide your disgust,” she chuckled. “You know the Northeast way of life is different.”

“Their people needlessly suffer while he sits idly on the throne, because of the happenstance of his birth, mother. A demon ruled their country and killed many innocent lives. Why should I not be disgusted?”

“Save your speeches and try love letters instead.” Her mother tugged on a braid, causing Atiena to whine. “Bat your eyes a bit. You're a little intense.”

Atiena rolled her eyes, and she winced as a braid got pulled again. She sat in mullish silence, giving in to her thoughts. Mostly of Ilya, who she met somewhere between her third and fourth time in Ravka. Moppy brown curls that were so different from the tight coils of her own, and deep set brown eyes. The war meant they always looked tired. Everything about his features were foreign to her. A humped narrow nose, wide lips much thinner than hers with a sharp cupid’s bow, and jutting jaw, but he had been handsome and loving, and now he was dead.

She cleared her throat, trying to banish the thoughts, and the tears building in her eyes. 

Sefu was sulking somewhere around the villa. Undoubtedly about his crush on the half-Kaelish boy, before he traveled back to Ol'Umoyana and pretended everything was okay. Her parents spoke highly of the deceased Aditi Hilli - her mother even competed against the woman in the Daughters of Novyi Zem competition. Said there was no contest. But Aditi had been described as the calm, deep waters of peace. Jesper was like the waves that crashed against the rocks, unsure where to dissipate.

“Stop fidgeting,” her mother said, using a flame to seal the ends of her hair extensions. “Wrap them every night, and use plenty of oil in Ravka to keep your skin safe. You know how the air steals from you there.”

Atiena smiled and stood up on wobbly legs so she could face her mother. The older woman gave a watery smile. “You look beautiful.” She sniffed. “Maybe give him a chance so I can have some grandchildren.”

This time her groan wasn't restrained. “Ask Sefu! He is the romantic in all things.”

“But you are the eldest and subject to my scrutiny,” her mother teased, kissing her cheek. “You know I want him to return to University.”

Atiena remembered Sefu, bowing under the weight and pressure of his courses, interested in too many subjects to properly study. But he was brilliant, and her right hand man and confidante. She would miss him while she was in Ravka.

“I understand mama.” Pragmatic Atiena, who was logical and passionate about her country above all else. Who moved pieces and people when the Council could not. 

* * * * *

The boat ride to Ravka was bitter. She had furs wrapped around her but the cold went home deep, her head wrapped in a turban and the heavy clothes making her movement slow. Already, the formal etiquette of ambassadorship was returning to her. She adopted the role of a haughty woman, one who knew she was important. Her delegation included a wind-heart and rain-bringer, who made sure the boat moved swiftly and without delay. She imperiously strode the deck, only her eyes visible when she nodded acknowledgements to the Ravkan military personnel on board. The foreigners would not pierce her façade to find the firebrand underneath, and they certainly wouldn't dig far enough to see the broken heart, when she saw Ravka's poisonous shores laid before her. 

* * * * *

Even Atiena had to admit she looked resplendent. 

Her dress was a work of art, meant to showcase the riches of Nyota Heri in a subtle and artistic way. In tribute to the North, gold coins were added to the trinkets in her braids before they were pinned back in an elaborate updo, heavy on her head like a crown. Gold bangles from the West covered her talisman on her neck, and the orange pattern of her dress resembled jurda. 

The zowa - grisha they were called here - were easy to spot in the Palace. They were branded by their garments, which she learned were called _keftas_. She found the outfits to be rather plain and dull. But her mother's warnings about being judgmental sounded in her head. Instead she studied what she could. There were people from all over the continent. Kerch, Fjerda, Shu Han, and even the Wandering Isles were represented. She thought the Palace provided a lovely backdrop for her people, even if the countryside looked claustrophobic compared to the Eastern part of Nyota Heri where she made her home. Atiena had only visited the jungles in the center of the continent once before.

 _How sad for the Grisha to be displayed like trophies,_ she thought, as a woman in red zipped by. _As if they are not people._ Despite fighting for the King and Country, Atiena knew the locals feared them. But then she remembered the garish way the most powerful Grisha made their talismans. Murdering some animal. Amplifiers, Jesper called it. _A savage world, a brutal country this place is._ She wondered how her militia was training. It had only been a week since she departed for her parent's villa but she already missed them. Maybe she could befriend a Grisha here and learn from them - how they trained and fought. Make some use of their sad situation.

Atiena decided to take up a Ravkan escort on a tour around the castle. The Grisha was a Shu man of average height, with hair so dark it was almost black, and honey eyes. He looked self-important, which did nothing to make her feel better. _Then again, I'm masquerading as an ass too._

Giving him the benefit of the doubt, they began their stroll. She set the pace, and her guards trailed behind, silently observing where she could not. 

“Ambassador Kaboyonga,” he said, in halting southeastern Zemeni. She was impressed. He gave a deep bow to her. “I'm here to bring you.”

“Sir,” she responded and gave a small nod. She extended her arm out lazily so he could take it, adjusting his stride to match hers. They took the scenic route to where the bride-cattle were assembling, the escort pointing out in stiff, student-level Zemeni some details. The building was very old and grand, but there were new sections, hastily covering damage. Atiena glanced at them, but then stopped once she saw the man looking at her. His eyebrows were slightly drawn together and he frowned, like he was going to speak. 

But their walk was over before he found words, and she was disappointed. 

The other women were fairly typical. All beautiful, in their ways. Even the mousy girl from Ketterdam. A city she had visited briefly as a child, but was kept indoors and close to her father's side. But she remembered how strange it was, to distrust everyone around you. 

Not unlike now.

Some gossipped with each other. Some were nervous messes. Others were silent like Atiena. Reserving energy for the King. When he arrived, the air turned electric.

After speeches in Ravkan, Fjerdan, and Zemeni, her delegation was the first to approach the King. Nikolai wasn't anything special to her. Tawny hair and blue eyes, and a face that was handsome if not exemplary. She was staunchly aware of how ‘other’ she was. No one else possessed skin that matched the night sky, and hair that reached towards the sun. But she was their equal. As smart, as deceptive, as beautiful as any other woman in the room.

She gave a deep curtsy, in Eastern tradition, and signaled for her Zowa guards to bring the case. “A gift from myself and Novyi Zem,” she said, using the terrible Ravkan name for her country. They revealed the plush interior of the chest, and beautiful handcrafted revolvers. She had etched onto them herself, and the iridescent pearl handles were unmatched.

Eagles were woven with the many flowers of Nyota Heri. She had made the suggestion herself. Only the finest pearls from the Southeastern waters were picked. 

And he didn't seem impressed. 

Atiena tried to mask her irritation. He said all the right pleasantries but it was like the Zemeni delegation wasn't even there. The irritation on her fellow Zowa was more obvious. They might be a newly united country but they were also a strong one. 

Her friend and fellow Zowa, Nandi, fell besides her as they exited. “He barely glanced at you. These goat milk heiresses have nothing on you.” Atiena stifled a laugh, disguising it as a polite cough. 

“Zemeni women aren't in fashion for kingdoms,” Atiena said plainly. “A hefty bag of gold will get further here. I may not have the right complexion but if the King focuses his attention elsewhere, it allows for more exploration.” Nandi nodded her understanding. 

Atiena’s father stood when she approached her seat, and the formality of the situation made her want to gag. Instead, she graciously accepted his hand and they sat beside each other, watching the spectacle before them. 

“Interesting that the Fjerdans are invited,” he remarked. Atiena felt a surge of anger as she watched them. They had a hand in the attacks on her country, she knew it. They would discuss more later.

She looked at the Shu delegation and thought it was ridiculous. The amount of people with them, for a Princess who wasn't even an heir to the throne? _They must not have faith in their guard,_ she thought. Why else would they need so many? Atiena felt the gift of the ancestors in her veins, and the three Zowa with her were the best. And had now been instructed in Sefu's fighting style as well.

“Curious,” she muttered to her father under her breath. “So many ethnic minorities in Ravka yet none of them are present tonight.” Not a single Suli face was present among the potential brides. They didn't even translate his speeches into Suli, a people she had great respect for. They were similar to the nomad cultures of Northern Nyota Heri, where her guard Fatima was from. 

“Plenty of them serve the king,” he replied. She noted the Shu soldiers to the King, and others with a darker complexion that reminded her of Ilya. “Rumor has it his general is half Suli.”

Atiena gave a small nod. “I was hoping to meet Zoya Nazyalensky. She seems a strong woman.” and possibly the only person in this forsaken country Atiena could admire. 

The food at dinner was bland and heavy but filling. She wasn't used to the heavy fare. For all her garb, she may well have not been there. The snubs from Eastern delegations didn't go unnoticed, especially from the Kerch, who were across from Atiena and her father. 

“No one wants to speak with us,” Atiena mentioned in one of the lesser known Zemeni dialects. To most outsiders it was a series of clicks as well as words.

“This feels like a sham,” her father said. “Even the King’s representatives have not approached us about your qualifications. From a political standpoint you would be advantageous. Money, resources, and the love of people on your region. Not to mention your power and beauty,” he said. Despite herself, Atiena felt heat in her cheeks.

“Of course you think so, father.” But she beamed under his pride. The reality was, she didn't want much of anything to do with Ravka. Endless wars and enemies, and couldn't win the trust of its own people. 

Noyta Heri had its problems as well. An oil war was brewing between companies, while steam-powered machines were also powerful and gaining traction. With industrialization came the development of cities, and the need for infrastructure. Tribal spats brew in regions, and crime sprees occasionally occurred, but the Council took a self-governing approach that helped in these cases. Governing such a large country came with difficulties but after the last war, and with zowa integrating themselves in the everyday lives of civilians, there was hope. 

Atiena was grateful once the dinner was over and she could return to her suites. One of the servants (though she loathed the term) helped her out of her beautiful gown and the elaborate hairstyle. 

“What did you learn?” she asked, massaging the burrow in her skin from the clothes. 

The girl Rebekah, smiled. The child of a Ravkan refugee and Zemeni, she was able to listen in to Ravkan gossip. She took after father, with fawn skin and loose wavy hair, pinned back in a long braid. “Something is amiss. I can't place what, but the King has not been himself lately. The Fjerdans are not being trusted, and they are desperate for him to get married.”

“That is gossip of country, now what is the gossip of streets?”

“They say his general sleeps with him at night,” she whispered, clearly scandalized. 

“The general is not here.”

“Precisely!” Bekah giggled. “I bet she's not pleased about us all being here.” She tried to shake off her nervousness, looking at Atiena the color of Kaelish whisky. “The woman with the disfigured face, they like her. She's part of the Grisha…” her face screwed over the unfamiliar word. 

“Triumvirate?”

“Yes! That. There are two Shu who are close to them, they're twins. But apparently when the Shu princess and her guard walked by they shunned them.”

“Were you able to find out about the Shu Grisha we are searching for?”

“No, Miss Kaboyonga. The kitchen staff do not like talking about the Grisha much. They are superstitious. Strange.”

“Thank you Bekah. Please keep an eye out for the man.”

She gave a little dip and Atiena rolled her eyes. “No. No, I'm not royalty. You may call me Atiena, and you are my equal.”

The girl smiles. “I just heard about you in school from the older girls.. You're so remarkable.”

“So are you,” Atiena responded, and leaned forward to give her a hug. 

Finally alone, Atiena let her shoulders sag. All the aches and little cuts had built up during the day. Her life as a diplomat’s child had been full of this, but as an adult it carried so much more weight. But the etiquette had never left her brain. The rules for interacting with important people, and the rules for keeping secrets safe. As she curled under the blankets, she wondered if Ilya would have worked in the Palace, if not for the war.

* * * * *

The days were filled with utter nonsense. Traipsing around the grounds, their guides telling them nothing of importance while the real work happened behind closed doors and in secret meetings. Her father wasn't being included in as many talks as hoped, which was a kink in their plans. The Ravkans has tossed the Western countries of Nyota Heri and the Wandering Isles in favor of their neighbors. 

That didn't bode well. Lwazi went drinking with some of the Grisha and discovered that Ravka had likely developed some sort of weapon. Water based, but the man didn't say more. 

“Kerch is jealous of our newfound independence on the sea,” her father said. 

“The harbor attacks,” she whispered back, smiling at one of the other young women they walked back. “Could it be Kerch? Are they conspiring with Fjerda?” maybe a misdirection. Turn Nyota Heri's attention to the frozen wastes rather than the closer threat. She pursed her lips and sucked her teeth. “I don't like this. I feel we are in the fields, and a leopard hides in the stalks.”

“And no idea where it may leap from,” he murmured. “You are nothing if not my daughter.”

“Maybe the leopards will busy with each other and leave us in peace,” she replied. Atiena ached to be home. To share this news with her trusty allies. But if the Kerch were siding with Ravka or Fjerda to harm her country - she needed to speak with Jesper privately. They could not risk intelligence leaks when Wylan returned to Ketterdam.

Atiena didn't have a chat with King Nikolai until her allotted time, where she sat next to him at an afternoon tea. A “simpler” dress was required for daytime so she wore a beautiful kitenge skirt that went to her ankles, and a separate matching top that left a scandalous finger length of skin showing on her stomach. Nothing back home, but she internally grinned at the other women chatting about it. Nevermind they had their shoulders and decolletage half hanging out. 

“ _Vashe Imperatorskoye Velichestvo, _Nikolai,” she said in her heavily accented Ravkan, before switching to Zemeni. She wanted to keep their chat between as few ears as possible. The last time she said those harsh syllables was when his father was King. “I am honored to accompany you.”__

__He gave a courteous bow, and a rakish smile that failed to impress. “The honor is mine.”_ _

__The King was charming - Atiena did genuinely laugh occasionally, but she was more impressed by his skills in languages. It reminded her of Jesper back home, always resigned to translating for them. But a flash of anger tore through her when she thought about the Southern Colonies, the subjugated Zemenis._ _

__“Are you alright Madame Ambassador?” He asked._ _

__“Perfectly fine,” she said, “No need for honorifics, you may use my name.”_ _

__She caught a millisecond of panic on his face before it gave way to a sheepish grin. Atiena wondered if it was calculated or a mistake of the eye. Leopards, indeed._ _

__“My name is Atiena Kaboyonga, your imperial majesty.”_ _

__“I was so stricken by your face I may have blanked on your name, Atiena.” A good recovery if flattery worked on her. She could see the members of his Triumvirate nearby, and wondered if they knew what she was, and the power she possessed. But they didn't even bother seeing the Nyota Heri people as an option. Not even enough to get her name right._ _

__She smiled all the same. “I won't tell,” she teased._ _

__“I am fascinated by Zemeni culture,” he said. “Almost as complex as the language.”_ _

__She kept her face bland, trying not to burst into laughter. “Yes, well, it varies quite a bit from region to region.” She nodded towards her guards, all of whom were watching the area with focused eyes. “Fatima is from the North, where the desert creeps and the sun makes you want to melt. Lwazi is from my area, the large ports and grasslands of the East. Nandi is from the Southern Colonies.” She kept her voice light._ _

__But any implications were lost on the King. He gave a (presumably charming) laugh. “You are right. Novyi Zem is rich in people and resources, the culture reflects that.” Even though her hopes weren't high, she was sorely disappointed. He definitely wasn't aware of the politics. Of the anger and unrest at ill-treated Zemenis on their own soil._ _

__He escorted her around the room and they talked about… nothing. It was all filler nonsense as she talked herself up, her connections and careful name dropping. She had to seem sincere in her efforts. In reality she would rather say that she could feel the blood rushing under his skin, that his heartbeat was fast, and that she was an expert at marksmanship, strategizing, and her day job was teaching._ _

__But Atiena didn't really mean anything in the grand scheme of things, to the King of Ravka. She represented Novyi Zem, which was unworthy in their eyes. When she extended a deep curtsy to Nikolai, she had to keep the contempt for his Triumvirate off her face._ _

__The Grisha from before, the Shu, was waiting to escort her. Finally she rolled her eyes - just a little. “I will make it to the table I assure you,” she told him in Ravkan._ _

__“Please allow me,” he said in his rough Zemeni, but she appreciated the effort, and it softened her mood. She took his arm and they walked slowly, the long way to her spit._ _

__“I thought this would be below you,” she remarked, taking care to enunciate carefully for him._ _

__“You remind me of a friend,” he replied. “Leoni Hilli.”_ _

__She nearly tripped, gripping his arm. Hilli? _Aditi Hilli is dead. She had no other family other than Jesper._ she wondered if Aditi had a secret child, but that didn't sound right. Hilli was an uncommon name in Nyota Heri. It came from the Fjerdan lowlands, despite the fact Aditi was Zemeni through and through. Who stole her name? _ _

__“I know a Hilli,” she said carefully. “But he is far from here.” Leoni was a very un-Zemeni name as well. She would ask her father. It shouldn't be a hard name to track down. “Remind me of your name?”_ _

__The Shu boy smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Nhaban.”_ _

__* * * * *_ _

__Atiena was thrilled, and could barely keep from pacing as she waited for Nhaban. Jesper’s letter to him was in a hidden pocket. Her skin made her stand out in the court, but she changed out of her formal clothes and slipped into a simple and plain dress with linen trousers underneath. More comfortable than her diplomatic fits, but wouldn't offend anyone._ _

__She moved as discreetly as she could in the library, her fingers tracing the spines of books as she walked by them. _Sefu would love this,_ she thought. But he didn't seem to have a natural gift for languages, so the Ravkan would be lost on him. _ _

__When she heard soft footsteps she readied her powers, bringing them to the surface. Being a _zingiyo_ meant she could feel the flow of blood in the stranger. Fists ready, she turned a corner._ _

__The Grisha that accompanied her first day in Ravka gave her a bow, and a sheepish smile._ _

__“Nhaban, Madam Ambassador.” He stood up. “At your service.”_ _

__“Kuwei,” she said. The boy momentarily paled, but quickly recovered._ _

__“Nhaban here.”_ _

__She pulled out the paper Jesper wrote about him. She kept it on her person at all times, never wanting to blow her cover or the Grisha._ _

__“We got your message. Not safe. You need to explain.”_ _

__They spoke a pidgin of Zemeni and Ravkan to each other, Atiena wishing she had a better grasp of Kerch or Shu._ _

__“Start with who isn't safe from what? Jesper? Everyone? You?” she paused. “If you need to defect, we have options.”_ _

__“Novyi Zem is not safe,” Nhaban said. “From Ravka and Kerch.”_ _

__Atiena felt her stomach drop. “I need details.” He looked around nervously. “Don't worry, it is hard to escape my detection,” she said, bringing her hands up in the air and wiggling her fingers._ _

__He nodded his understanding. “There are rumors of a lab here. I've never seen it. But they are building ships, that Kerch wants to control the sea.”_ _

__Attacks on the harbor. “What kind of ships?”_ _

__“I don't know for sure. Someone said they are invisible.”_ _

__“Impossible,” she scoffed. But she knew the importance of rumors. The perception of the people. “What else do you know? Not just about the ships. How can we be safe?” Atiena looked him in the eye. “How do we keep Jesper safe?”_ _

__She reached a hand out to his, and he was startled, so she withdrew it. Atiena remembered how unusual affection was in Ravka, Fjerda, and Kerch. She didn't know about the Shu._ _

__He started to talk about the horrific experiments the Shu conducted on their Grisha. Using the parem to turn them into flying beasts that destroyed their bodies. Atiena had almost forgotten about jurda parem. Jesper was trying… something… on the farm, but her attention had been so political, the drug fell to the wayside. But he also told her the Shu weren't interested in much outside the jurda, and he also wasn't sure if they would make moves against a crop they needed._ _

__Atiena would communicate that to the farmers. They already filtered out the poison in the roots, maybe they would find a way to fight the drugs._ _

__Nhaban looked at her seriously. “I am committing treason by telling you this. Even Nikolai would kill me. I don't think letters are safe anymore.”_ _

__She nodded. “We thank you. You are keeping our people safe.”_ _

__“I didn't do it for that,” he dismissed. “But I know Jesper is there.”_ _

__“He's certainly special,” she replied. “I will bring a letter safely back to him for you.” It was the least she could do, for his cooperation. “Will you continue to write to us, in code?”_ _

__He nodded._ _

__“If you ever find yourself wanting to leave for a place with open skies and fields, where you will be equal, please come to us.” she smiled at him. “You have a place with us. Zowa are respected and normal. Life has been harsh to you, and this place will do you no favors. Shu Han, Fjerda. No person or country should own you because of the circumstances of your birth. ”_ _

__Atiena watched as he cracked in front of her. Maybe it was cruel, reminding him of everything he had lost. That Ravka was a cruel master. It was easy for her to see the depths of people, ever since she was a girl. Her parents said it was a blessing and to use it sparingly. Never to lash out and hurt people, but to build them up._ _

__Nhaban wiped the tear from his eyes before it could roll down his face. “But I can be useful here? To you and Jesper?”_ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“Then I will stay until I can't,” he said. She saw the determination in his eyes and she wanted to hug him. There was no guaranteeing he would remain on their side - that he wouldn't turn and tell the Triumvirate of her questions. Of her offer to help him defect. But she had to put her trust into someone, and this was her gamble._ _

__“Thank you Nhaban.”_ _

__“We should leave. No doubt they have noticed at least one of us coming here.”_ _

__She nodded, and he wordlessly got up to leave. She waited several minutes in serene silence until she also exited, returning to her room and her role._ _

__Now that she had the help of Nhaban, Atiena's patience was heightened. They were all being escorted to the lake. She wasn't sure why, since it was cold. The Tidemakers were turning the mists into designs. The double eagle was present, but she also found the flower symbol designated for Nyota Heri and she smiled her approval. Fatima was impressed and found some of the Grisha to talk to about the process._ _

__Many of the girls had parasols, which struck Atiena as ridiculous. The sunlight that struggled from the cloudy skies felt good on whatever skin was exposed. Lwazi and her father were on the boat with her, politely discussing the architecture of the palace, when there was a shriek, and a splash, and (after a delay) a second splash._ _

__The three Zemenis watched with disinterest as the King of Ravka jumped after Birgitta Schenk._ _

__“Not very practical is she?”_ _

__“They don't teach their girls to swim,” Mr. Kaboyonga replied. “And something tells me she was hoping for this outcome.”_ _

__Atiena sipped on a hot beverage in a fabrikated cup, when they burst out of the water. A little too fast. Grisha helped the King. The Zemenis were lackluster in their applause, as everyone burst into cheers over the “heroics”._ _

__At dinner, Atiena nibbled on her food but was mostly eating out of politeness. The heavy meats and starches were sitting in her stomach compared to her normal diet, but she didn't want to cause offense. Nhaban escorted her back to the room, and when they were away from the crowds, he whispered in her ear._ _

__“The Kerch are going to the laboratory.”_ _

__This was confirmed by Fatima, who was befriending the Ravkan Grisha alongside Lwazi. If the Kerch were gaining access to Ravka's invisible ships, then it meant there could be no trust between Nyota Heri and the East. The Wandering Isles were their only true allies, and the relationship with Shu Han was neutral at the moment. It was a sobering thought she shared with her father._ _

__“This is bad news,” he said. “Ravka have been our allies insofar. Why throw away our goods and history for a small island nation?”_ _

__“Gold,” Atiena said. “A rich island nation with no morals.”_ _

__“Our fleet of ships can command the ocean, we don't even need Kerch any more.”_ _

__“But we won't have a fleet if Kerch turns this into an act of war. All this time I was sure it was only the Fjerdans. But that isn't the case.” Atiena rubbed her temples. “We have no standing army, and the regions are united but self sufficient. We are not prepared for war.”_ _

__“You are the closest thing we have to a general,” her father said. “Be honest - How many Zowa do you think would answer your call?”_ _

__She sighed. “Sixty adults in the East. I can begin training in the North and West. But we will not win a war that comes to battle. We don't have soldiers.”_ _

__“We will get them,” he said. “The unification of Zowa and soldiers will put us at a substantial advantage. The two may work together in our case. But we cannot do anything in this moment. We are here to get information, we will act at home.” he worried at his lip. “Eyes forward, ears open.” The mantra from when she was a child on their diplomatic trips._ _

__She nodded. But it was hard to constantly change outfits and be present at parties, with disaster looming. Nhaban was an invaluable ally. He couldn’t gain access to the lab, but apparently something went wrong when the Kerch went in. That gave her a small slice of hope, but not much. She wanted details, wanted a frank conversation with the Triumvirate (who seemed to be calling the real shots) about the state of their relationship. But that wasn’t how politics was done here._ _

__So Atiena let herself be a twenty-something. She danced with Nhaban, espionage put on the wayside. Her dress was still spectacular in her humble opinion - this time a rich green that highlighted the gold dust decorating her collarbone and cheekbones. The cowrie shells in her hair rattled everytime Nhaban spun her quickly, and her smile was genuine._ _

__“I put my money on the Shu princess,” Nhaban said, when Ehri walked by in stunning regalia. “She's had alone time with the King.”_ _

__“I do not care,” Atiena said honestly. “Kings and Queens lead to nothing except inequality. I'll take a democracy and open skies any day.” A pause. “Tell me about Shu Han.”_ _

__“It has a lot of terrain. Just like Novyi Zem.”_ _

__“You've been studying,” she teased._ _

__He gave a self assured smile. “Maybe. We have huge mountains, cold deserts. Everything. The people aren't all the same either like -”_ _

__“Like Novyi Zem,” she finished. “We call it Nyota Heri. Bright star.”_ _

__“That's beautiful.”_ _

__Time flew by when he described a mighty river that cut through the region - something she had no idea about. In return, she talked about the hot deserts of the North and the Jungle in the West, trying to find the right words for someone who's never seen one. ‘Wet forest’ didn't seem to do it justice._ _

__The next time she had any individual time with King Nikolai he seemed different. Hyper attentive, and the charm was dialed way up. Now Atiena understood the moniker Too-Clever-Fox, but it turned her off. An ulterior motive lurked below the surface._ _

__“Are you warm enough?” He asked, as she took a place by his side after the hunt._ _

__“Of course, _Vashe Imperatorskoye Velichestvo_ ,” she replied with a curtsey. The fur cape around her kept out the bitter cold while they were in the gardens._ _

__“You're the daughter of the Ambassador and Councilwoman, are you not?” He asked, taking a bite out of a fruit. She arched an eyebrow. Now he was asking about details. Curious. His Zemeni had a rougher edge than it did before. Maybe he had kvas before joining them._ _

__“I am. We met once as children.”_ _

__“I remember,” he said. “The trade deal. Dreadfully boring business.”_ _

__“On the contrary,” she started as a flash of annoyance went through her, “Trade deals are the backbone of international relations. I find them fascinating.”_ _

__Nikolai glanced at her with a plastered on smile, but she could see the shrewd look on his face and discomfort settled in her stomach. When he had been a pompous man that could barely lead, that was one thing. But if he was knowingly playing Nyota Heri for fools, then he was infinitely more dangerous. She missed Ilya and his guileless nature._ _

__Indirectly or not, the Ravkan throne had killed him._ _

__“Then you are infinitely more suited to politics.”_ _

___Why does he toss his hands about so much?_ she thought, as he made some strange flailing motion to summon more tea. “On the contrary,” she said, giving a Ravkan smile. Not too much teeth, careful not to distort her features. “You have made many sweeping reforms for your people in the East.” _Stupid,_ she corrected herself. _Don't show your feelings about the  
Umhlaba Obiwe. “The Little Palace is novel.”__ _

___“Leftover from my forebears,” he dismissed._ _ _

___“From what I hear, yourself and General Nazyalensky have only increased acceptance of grisha in this country. That is a feat in of itself.” She wet her lips with hot tea, wanting more than anything to eat the pastry in front of her. Ravkan pastries were delicious compared to their meals but decorum suggested she only nibble. Cruelty at its finest. “Rebuilding and reunification after wartime is difficult, and you have handled it with graciousness and ease.”_ _ _

___Peace bought with the blood of innocent people - grisha and not._ _ _

___“You would know about unification,” he said. For the first time, she thought his smile looked genuine. “You have been preaching a unified Novyi Zem since you were a teenager, have you not?”_ _ _

___Ah. They had done their homework. “We are a land of many people, but we have more in common than we have differences.”_ _ _

___He studied her, and she tried to brush off the shroud of misery that surrounded her. This was so much worse. He knew more than he did before - someone had informed him about more since the beginning of the week. Did he know about the resistance? About Nandi escaping from the Umhlaba Obiwe? About the strength of her own zowa powers? The last thing she wanted was to be consigned to the Second Army thanks to some ancient Ravkan law about ownership of people._ _ _

___“A pity we didn’t talk more during the week,” he finally said. “I think we could have had some wonderful conversations.”_ _ _

___Relief and anger flooded her all at once. Relief that she wouldn’t be trapped in a gray, sunless, superstitious country. Anger that they wasted her time in the first place, when they already knew who Nikolai would pick. They passed the rest of the time talking about banalities. The pastries, the hunt earlier that day, and the weather._ _ _

___Any good will towards Ravka disappeared when Nhaban knocked on her door that night. He looked ashen, and she hurried him in, peeking in the hallway to make sure no one else had seen him._ _ _

___“What is it?” she asked._ _ _

___He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. Ravka has decided to sell the plans to the Kerch. The Fjerdans are coming to Ravka, and they want the gold.”_ _ _

___“Thank you Nhaban,” she said. This time, he reached out to squeeze her hand. Despite herself, tears sprung to her eyes. They had been anticipating this - secret, shady deals. But a part of her desperately hoped Nikolai would be better than his forefathers, and honor the friendship their two countries had formed. Not anymore. Nyota Heri needed to steel itself against foes coming from the sea. Her work in Ravka was done - Zemeni spies would need to take care of the rest._ _ _

Now that Nyota Heri was a mighty country, she chuckled at the idea that Ravka may need their help in the end. _They better pray to their forsaken Saints the Council of Elders has more mercy than I would._


End file.
